Lost Little Lamb
by Jimsie
Summary: Gilbert POV story set right after Gilbert's return to Kingsport following Diana's wedding. Canon compatible.
1. Chapter 1

_"It's best to be levelheaded, of course," agreed Philippa, "but you miss lots of fun. As for Alec and Alonzo, if you knew them you'd understand why it's difficult to choose between them. They're equally nice."_

_"Then take somebody who is nicer" suggested Aunt Jamesina. "There's that Senior who is so devoted to you—Will Leslie. He has such nice, large, mild eyes."_

_"They're a little bit too large and too mild—like a cow's," said Phil cruelly._

_"What do you say about George Parker?"_

_"There's nothing to say about him except that he always looks as if he had just been starched and ironed."_

_"Marr Holworthy then. You can't find a fault with him."_

_"No, he would do if he wasn't poor. I must marry a rich man, Aunt Jamesina. That—and good looks—is an indispensable qualification. I'd marry Gilbert Blythe if he were rich."_

-From Chapter XIX: An Interlude, Anne of the Island

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**Chapter 1**

"Blythe!" shouted a voice, cutting through the noise of the crowded station.

Gilbert instinctively turned towards the direction of the voice, only to face scowls and sniffs of irritation. Every person arriving at this port, even for the first time, immediately understood that the only acceptable direction to face was towards the exit, and the only way to walk was forwards.

"Blythe!" shouted the voice again, and this time the voice was accompanied by a hand that jumped up and waved over the heads of the passengers glaring at Gilbert as they brushed past him. Gilbert would have liked to raise his own hand in return, to indicate where he stood, but his luggage demanded both his hands at present.

"I'm here! Walking to Water Street!" Gilbert shouted back, uncertain of the target, simply hoping his voice would reach the position of the hand he saw a moment ago. Quickly, he turned his head back to match the way his body faced, and fell back into step with the crowd.

"You're an impatient man, Gilbert Blythe," said the voice, suddenly appearing right next to his ear, as the accompanying hand clasped one of his cases and tugged it away from his own hand. Gilbert, who had initially tightened his grip out of a habit formed in reaction to the bumping and jostling of fellow passengers, could now finally see the face that belonged to the voice and hand, as it smiled broadly at him. He grinned in response and yielded his bag.

"Holworthy! I didn't know you were back- did your boat just arrive? How is your mother? Oh, and-" but here Marr Holworthy cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"Better not talk here with all this noise! Wait till we reach Water Street!" Marr shouted and disappeared into the crowd in front of him, still carrying one of Gilbert's cases. Gilbert attempted to speed up and keep pace with him, but having the more awkwardly shaped one of his two cases, and less practice than Marr at elbowing his way through crowds (and more of a natural inclination for allowing people to pass ahead of him if they appeared more impatient, or more tired, or more burdened with their luggage, or very young, or very old), it was very likely that Marr reached the road several minutes before Gilbert eventually arrived.

Marr was waiting against the wall, flattening against it in an attempt to stay out of the way of the dispersing travellers. He beamed at Gilbert.

"You look so surprised to see me- I take it you never received my letter telling you I was headed back to Kingsport. I just returned yesterday! My mother is feeling considerably better now, and I needed to return to work. Here, Mrs. Fulton has generously loaned me her buggy today- she's the one who told me you'd be back today. And I had an idea your Avonlea would load you up with treats and presents. I offer my carrying services and carriage in exchange for a suitable share of the snacks filling our room."

Gilbert had many questions for Marr, but there would be time enough to ask them. Tired and grateful, loaded his luggage into the buggy.

"It's before the harvest, so it's awfully presumptuous to expect anyone has sent me with food. You may have helped for nothing in return. Soon all the other Lambs will expect you to show up and carry their things, and I warn you, I travel lighter than most," Gilbert said, comfortable in the knowledge that his mother always packed extra apple butter. ("You'll also need some for sharing," she would say.)

Marr's cheerful grin showed no sign of worry. "No, I've come to know your mother too well, Blythe. A pattern has emerged through all your descriptions. She has certainly been storing up preserves since the last harvest, and just because she gave you all you could carry at Christmastime does not mean she wouldn't have more set aside for you! I trust both your parents are doing well? Were they delighted to see their boy for at least a few days over the summer, although it's a pity it isn't longer, you simply work too hard, etc.?"

"They were both champions about it. I constantly feel guilty that I'm neglecting them, but I can always count on them to make the best of the time we have. I only got there day before, on Saturday, which was the morning of the wedding, and spent the day involved in that. It wasn't until after church yesterday that I properly got to spend time with them at all, but it was good. I am glad we had that time, just the three of us."

In fact, after church, his mother had asked him, gently, "Do you know when you'll be home today? I was going to make a nice supper, but it's quite alright if you'd planned to-" Gilbert had cut her off then and told her that he was walking directly back home with them. He had been looking at Anne standing in the distance when his mother had asked him this, although it had been unconscious, and so he had turned away from Anne then, hoping to make it clear to his mother that he truly had no other plans for the day. His parents had also asked no questions and made no comment the previous night, when he had mentioned walking Anne home. He realised that his behaviour in general was far from clear to them, but it was not in their nature to pry and in was not in his capacity to explain.

Marr's voice intruded on his thoughts, "And what of the wedding? How was that? Tell me, were you indeed the _best man_ there? Or is such a designation too much to live up to?"

Gilbert laughed, and said "No, unfortunately for me, any group that includes Fred always has him as the best man, but I think I made a fair attempt for the best man after Fred. In any case, the ceremony concluded with dignity, and my speech with respectability, and the everyone had a merry time at the wedding! Fred and Diana looked like they could not imagine greater happiness, and I cannot imagine a more deserving pair."

Marr smiled and nodded, but said nothing in response. After a short moment, he asked, "And were all the others there? Anne and Charlie and Moody? Did your small town come together for one big wedding?"

Gilbert understood now that Marr was specifically asking about Anne, and appreciated that he set his question to allow Gilbert a chance to evade answering.

"Yes, they were all there, and while it wasn't quite the whole town, it was probably most of it. The Barry house looked full to bursting. And it lasted quite late into the night, although most of the older folks went home earlier in the evening." After a moment's hesitation, he added, "Anne and I were among the last to leave."

Marr now turned to look squarely at him and asked bluntly, "And was that alright? Was it a merry time for you, as you mentioned it was for others?" The time for evasion was past.

"Yes," replied Gilbert, in a slow, considering tone. "It was. It was pleasant, and it felt- it felt like a return to older times. We were... friends again."

Marr continued to look at him intently. "Friends again? Just for that evening? Or are you still friends again?"

All at once, the weariness of the weekend caught up with Gilbert, and he felt the full force of two long trips in three days, with insufficient rest in between.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, and Marr could hear the sudden tiredness in Gilbert's voice. "I think, perhaps, we're still... but- _I don't know_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for reading, and for the kind words of encouragement! I have had this story running around my head for a while now, but only just worked up the courage to start writing and posting it. **

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**Chapter 2**

Marr smiled encouragingly. "Well, whatever it is, it's a start. You're just out of practice right now." He was silent for a moment but his eyes began to dance and his smile broadened into a grin. "Really, you should never let a broken heart keep you from enjoying the pleasant company of a pretty girl. It would be as foolish as cutting off an arm. You could always take me as a model to emulate, you know. Just look at how charmingly I've remained friends with Phil Gordon for instance, despite her obvious preference for Jonas Blake."

Gilbert had in fact pondered this several times in the past. He had often wondered how deeply his friend actually cared for Phil, and how deeply he may have been hurt. So far, Gilbert had no satisfactory answer to this question, and not for lack of investigating. Marr, who was so frank, so candid, around Gilbert in most regards, could suddenly become quite inscrutable about certain things. He answered Gilbert's questions on the matter readily enough, but his answers were so littered with jokes and glib remarks that it was impossible to distill a complete picture from them.

From his own observations, Gilbert could see that Marr certainly sought out Phil's company with singular enthusiasm, and plainly enjoyed the time he spent with her, but he accepted his rivals for her attention with an easy equanimity, and in private he seemed to stoically regard it as inevitable that she would someday be marrying someone else. Perhaps it was this conviction that had kept him guarded all along, and so he had never allowed himself to love, in the same way that Gilbert loved, all-consumingly. Or perhaps Marr's love was just more selfless and noble, free of pettiness and jealousy, and meant he could sincerely wish her well with or without himself, simply finding happiness in her happiness.

The answer was likely some combination of both.

"Did you see Anne again after the wedding?" Marr's voice intruded on his thoughts.

"Not... well, yes. We exchanged some pleasantries after church, but that was all."

"Did you walk her home?"

"After church, or after the wedding? I walked her home after the wedding. Not just home, actually. We also detoured through some of our old haunts." For a moment, Gilbert sat up straighter, as though he was being pulled into a memory, but then he slumped back and exhaled. "And then we spoke of the relentless passage of time, and the transience of youth."

"She misses you," Marr asserted, nodding sagely.

And Gilbert missed her, but this by itself did not dull the sting of the fact that she did not love him, and would never love him, and in fact loved Roy Gardner.

"You know," said Gilbert, "you never did tell me about your own trip home, except to say your mother is feeling better. Is she back to full health? Did you like her new doctor?"

"Blythe, I'm horrified that you would see fit to use my poor mother's illness as a shield! She does not suffer just so that you may distract from the concerns of your own life."

Gilbert started to protest that he had in fact attempted to ask after Marr's mother while they were still at the station, and that his inquiry was sincere, until he realised that Marr had been joking.

"Well," Marr continued, "this is all in the letter I sent you, but now I recall you don't seem to have received it. She's certainly back to what I would call her usual health now, thank goodness, but of course, as you know, 'full health' has been eluding her for many years now."

Gilbert had known, and wished he had expressed himself better. 'Fully recovered' from the last bout of severe illness is what he had meant, and had be been less tired he might have found the correct words more promptly. Gilbert thought of how his own dad had fallen sick when he was 10, and those three long, lonely years they spent in Alberta until he got better. But his dad had truly been well since, excepting mild colds or something similarly inconsequential. And besides, he always had his mother for support. Marr had told Gilbert once that he lost his own father when he was 14. That was in fact the only time Gilbert could recall Marr mentioning his own father. Marr had a twin sister, and she was a great help, of course, and took care of his mother, but that was hardly the same thing as a parent. It seemed to Gilbert that Marr spent a great deal of time worrying over his sister and how she fared at home, and regretted that she did not also have the opportunity to come to Redmond.

"I'm not enchanted with the new doctor though," Marr added, frowning now. "I suppose it's hard on him to be inheriting the practice of a doctor who was known to his patients for many years, and well-loved. And seeing as we aspire to be in a similar situation one day ourselves, I ought to show patience and sympathy, but he is certainly not winning us over with his thoughtless remarks about the inevitability of '_chronic troubles_' at a '_certain age_'. My mother's troubles are quite unconnected to her age. Maybe there's nothing he can do for her, but he almost makes it sound as if he doesn't consider it worth the bother."

"But he did help this time though? Since your mother is feeling much better than she was a few weeks ago?"

Marr humphed dismissively. "No, I think he was entirely irrelevant to this last bout. I felt quite useless also, actually. This is all credit to my sister, who is the best nurse in the world, even without any formal training. I suppose if I helped in any way, it was helping Lucy get some rest and respite every now and again, even if she never admits to being worn out."

"I'm sure they were both very happy to have you there. Was it hard to leave?"

"Horribly so. I spent my time at home feeling helpless, inconvenient, and out of place. I wanted to get back to work so that I could have a purpose, and contribute, and also perhaps because it would mean Mother was well again, and so on. But the entire trip back, I felt selfish, distant, and out of place. By the time I reached our room here on Saturday, I just felt hollowed out. And yet, today I did work, and I did feel purposeful and animated again, but that has only made me feel guiltier, as though feeling this way is a greater betrayal still."

Out of place and hollowed out. Guilty. Gilbert simply nodded.

They had reached the Lambda Theta house now, and Marr and Gilbert unloaded the cases. Gilbert carried them up two flights of stairs, while Marr went to return the buggy to Mrs. Fulton. His room looked mostly just as he had left it despite the few items Marr had strewn about, but it felt strange, like a room he only knew from a picture but never entered, until he set himself on his bed. This was a familiar bed, a constant symbol of the end of a long day. It was not quite the end of day yet, and really he ought to go straight down for supper, but maybe he could just take a minute to lay back and stretch out, flat.


End file.
